


Cornered

by Lynse



Category: Randy Cunningham: 9th Grade Ninja
Genre: (at the moment anyway), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergent, Conversations, Gen, Identity Reveal, Misconceptions, Reveal, Two Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:15:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26567176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynse/pseuds/Lynse
Summary: When Debbie drags Randy into her newspaper office for questioning, things go about as well as can be expected.
Comments: 15
Kudos: 69





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [0palite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/0palite/gifts).



> Originally [posted on tumblr](https://ladylynse.tumblr.com/post/162875217463/a-rc9gn-snippet-pre-debbie-meddle-s2-for) as Debbie's Pronouncement and written for zeropalite. Pre-Debbie Meddle. Standard disclaimers apply.

When Debbie cornered him by his locker after Spanish, Randy knew he was in trouble. “I need to talk to you,” she said.

“Us,” Howard corrected from Randy’s side.

Debbie ground her teeth. “No,” she growled without taking her eyes off Randy. “Randy.”

“No can do. We’re a pair. We go together like pickles and peanut butter.”

Debbie recoiled and finally looked at Howard. “Pickles and peanut butter? That’s _disgusting_. Don’t you mean peanut butter and jam?”

Howard shook his head. “You only think that because you haven’t tried it. You’re not enlightened. Whaddaya think, Cunningham? Should we let her in on the secret?”

Debbie shuddered. “Gross. No. I don’t even want to know why you first tried that. Randy—” and suddenly she was looking at him again “—my office? Now? You don’t have to worry about being late or anything. I’ve got standing permission with the teachers to do this sort of thing.”

“Um.” Randy glanced at Howard, who was pointing to a nonexistent watch and then over his shoulder, not making any effort to hide the fact that he was saying they should ditch Debbie. “Why?”

“Because it’s important.”

What was _more_ important was seeing if Howard would win their bet about how many robots McFist was going to send this week. It was Friday, and Randy was still two short of the magic number. He’d hoped to slip away and put in a quick appearance as the Ninja to see if he could bait McFist into releasing any robots early. It served the dual purpose of letting him win the bet and (the reason he’d told the Nomicon so it wouldn’t stop allowing him to transform) getting McFist to order Viceroy to send the robots out before they were complete, making them even easier to defeat and setting them behind on their whole plot to destroy him. (The adoration from his fans was just a bonus.)

“I don’t th—awk!”

Debbie grabbed his hand and started dragging him away, completely ignoring his protests. How the juice was she so strong? She definitely didn’t look it, but planting his feet just made it more likely that his face would be introduced to the floor, and he had enough of that as the Ninja. To save what was left of his pride, he followed her.

Howard trailed behind, though he stopped to procure a bag of chips from the vending machine.

This proved to be the only reason Debbie managed to shove Randy into the official office of the NHGTTWDPC (online edition) before Howard could reach them. “Stay out,” Debbie snarled, slamming the door and locking it.

Howard started knocking.

Randy contemplated jumping out the window because he was pretty sure that, whatever this was, he wouldn’t like it. They weren’t on the first floor, but if he could get the mask on quickly enough….

“Stop acting like a child!” Debbie yelled, throwing something—a box of tacks?—at the door. Yup, tacks. The box burst apart, and now they were everywhere. He’d have to remember to jump over them when he ran out of here later, assuming he’d have the opportunity to do that. “Just go to class! I’m not going to help you if you’re late.” Turning back to Randy, she grumbled, “Boys are such _idiots_.”

“Um.” He raised a questioning finger.

“Present company not necessarily excepted. Sit.” She pointed to the chair in front of the desk. Randy sat, dropping his bag beside him as she walked around to her own chair. Putting her elbows on her desk and resting her chin on her hands, she leaned forward to look at him. “So. Guess what I’ve figured out.”

Randy swallowed. He knew she had been researching the Ninja. He hadn’t realized she was so close. Maybe it was a good thing he hadn’t taken the window exit after all. If he could just play this cool, maybe he’d throw her off the trail.

Debbie was still clearly waiting for an answer. Randy forced himself to open his mouth. “Uh…the secret recipe behind McSoupsicles?”

Debbie rolled her eyes, even though he knew she’d still been investigating that, too. “No, much more interesting. _The Ninja_.”

Then again, if he _had_ taken the window exit, he wouldn’t have to be doing this right now.

“What about him?”

Debbie sat back, still not taking her eyes off of him. “Remember when Howard announced to the entire school that he knew the Ninja’s secret identity?”

This was not good. “Yeah, but he actually doesn’t.”

“Sure, that’s what he _said_.” The emphasis she put on the word made it abundantly clear Debbie no longer believed that. “But you and I both know that’s not true, don’t we?”

Randy laughed; it sounded nervous and fake even to his own ears. “What makes you say that?”

Debbie’s eyes narrowed. “Cut the act, Cunningham. We both know who the Ninja is.”

“We do?” Randy wasn’t actually sure he said the words. If he was lucky, he might have squeaked them.

Debbie crossed her arms. “Are you going to come clean or not?”

“I don’t have anything to come clean about!” His voice climbed about an octave, betraying him, and Randy shut his mouth. Talking was making things worse. What he really needed to do was shloomp on this, but there wasn’t time. Debbie _already_ knew he was the Ninja, she just wanted him to admit it, which he definitely couldn’t do, and—

“You know who the Ninja is! Is it that hard to admit?”

Wait.

 _You know who the Ninja is_. Not _you ARE the Ninja_.

Ha, she had it wrong after all. Randy grinned. He could use this as an opportunity to wonk her cheese so bad she’d never realize the truth. “So what if I do?”

“You’re sitting on a secret as big as this whole town, one that would blow everything else out of the water,” Debbie said—quite accurately, not that Randy would tell her that. “It’s a crime _not_ to let the people know. Because let’s face it. If Howard knows, you know. And if you two know….”

She let the sentence hang, and Randy frowned. He had no idea what she was implying. “And if we know—?”

Debbie spread her hands. “Then the Ninja’s got the best disguise of all. He’s a nobody.”

Wait.

“He’s not a nobody! You _cannot_ deny he’s got the brucest moves. You saw how expertly he sliced and diced that Robo-Mantis yesterday, right?”

Debbie just shrugged. “He can be a bit of a shoob.”

“He is _not_!” Randy exclaimed indignantly. Howard was probably still spreading rumours. He liked using the Ninja against Randy, and that was so not fair. “How easy do you think he has it, destanking all those monsters? Avoiding any of those robots? The Nomicon hardly counts as help and half the time works against him, so it’s not like you can expect— Why are you looking at me like that?”

“What do you mean by _destanking_?”

 _Oops_. Randy waved a hand. “Y’know. De-monstering. Getting kids back to normal. That’s what Howard and I call it.”

“You mean that’s what the Ninja calls it.”

“We-ell, yeah,” Randy allowed, because she’d already figured out that much and there was no getting her to change that assumption now, “but that doesn’t—”

“So what’s _stank_? Because I’m assuming you aren’t talking about some rank smell here.”

Randy rolled his eyes. “Give the Ninja some credit. He knows what he’s doing, all right? He was just calling things like he saw ‘em.”

“Which doesn’t answer my question.”

“I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”

“Uh huh. Because the Nomicon didn’t help you figure that out?”

Randy snorted. “The Nomicon just talks like First Nin…ja….” Wait. “Uh…how do you know about the Nomicon?”

Debbie smiled sweetly, all false innocence that didn’t even pretend to be real. “How do you know about the Ninja?”

“That’s not even remotely the same!”

“Isn’t it?”

“No!” Why wasn’t Howard back to knocking on the door and distracting Debbie? Or blowing something up to distract her? Randy couldn’t even unload a bunch of smoke bombs to make his escape when she was watching him this closely. When had he mentioned the Nomicon? He’d been _thinking_ about the Nomicon, but he hadn’t actually said anything out loud, had he?

He was going to be in so much trouble for this.

“It sounds the same.” Debbie was right in front of him now, leaning against the edge of her desk. Randy hadn’t even realized she’d moved. “It also sounds,” she added, the smirk crawling back onto her face, “like you know so much more than you really want to tell. Which means I’m right. Howard does know who the Ninja is.” Was a smile supposed to have that many teeth showing? It looked downright predatory. Randy hunched up, trying to make himself smaller, somehow less of a target, but Debbie just leaned closer. “And so do you.”

“No, I don—”

“Is it Doug?”

The ridiculousness of that statement made Randy forget his half-formed protests. “ _Doug_?” he repeated in disbelief. “You think _Doug_ could be the Ninja? _Doug_? How the cheese did you come up with _Doug_?” Debbie just smiled smugly at him, and Randy cottoned on to what she was doing. “Oh, no,” he said, “if you think I’m just going to sit here and let you trick me into telling you I’m the Ninja, you’re _so_ wrong.”

Debbie went white, the colour draining from her face as if he’d just told her someone had died. Randy tried to remember the words that had actually come out of his mouth, since his brain didn’t seem to want to supply that information right now. “Uh….”

“You?” Debbie’s voice sounded strangled, like it was a battle for her to breathe, but at least she hadn’t fainted. Although fainting would’ve been easier on him. He hadn’t really just confessed to her, had he?

“Uh-um….” Yeah, he should have _really_ kept his mouth shut. How could he walk into this and _not notice_? This was _Debbie_. She’d probably planned this. Even if she hadn’t been expecting what she’d heard.

“ _You_?”

“That was a, uh, example.” Hopefully she’d buy that.

“You.”

Her voice was flat, incredulous, but far too close to accepting for Randy to feel comfortable. He had no idea how to salvage this. Where _was_ Howard and his gazillion crazy ideas? Randy could use one of them about now. Or ten. Debbie’s threats shouldn’t have been enough to scare off Howard. It was _Howard_ , after all.

 _Something_ exploded outside—possibly Principal Slimovitz’s car—and Randy didn’t know if it was Howard’s attempt to rescue him or McFist’s attempt to capture him.

From the way Debbie was looking at him, he didn’t think she’d let him get away to find out.

“You’re the Ninja.”

Her tone hadn’t changed, but the screaming had started and the explosions kept coming, loud _booms_ that rattled the pens on Debbie’s desk, meaning Randy _needed_ to get outside or Debbie would have her proof that he was the Ninja. So, he abandoned hope of getting struck by a brilliant idea and instead winged it, doing the only thing he could think of. “Psych!” he yelled, loudly enough that she jerked back. “Had you going there for a minute, didn’t I? Was the whole Nomicon thing was a good touch? My idea, not Howard’s.”

The colour returned to her face instantly. “You _idiot_!” She dove for him, but he had anticipated that and was already moving for the door. He jumped over the worst of the tacks, twisted open the lock on the door handle, flung the door wide, and ran without looking back. Randy sprinted past Howard fighting with the vending machine again on the way to the sanctuary of the boys’ washroom, where even Debbie wouldn’t dare follow him.

…Hopefully.

He locked the door of the last stall on the left and reached for his mask. “Don’t worry,” he said to the Nomicon as he donned the mask, “I’ll make sure she doesn’t realize I was serious. You just stay here while I….”

That was when he realized he didn’t actually have the Nomicon with him.

It was in his bag, which was in Debbie’s newspaper office.

The newspaper office she wasn’t going to let him within ten feet of after how he’d left it.

And he’d _already told her about the Nomicon_.

Another explosion rattled open the previously locked stall door (it had never held that well since the time he’d locked that first monster up in it), and Randy groaned. He’d have to deal with that mess later. Right now, he had to be the Ninja. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have a town to protect, let alone a secret identity to keep.

He just hoped Debbie wouldn’t snoop.

Or at least that she wouldn’t open the Nomicon if she did. Or rather, _when_ she snooped, since it was Debbie, and chances were very good she would, he hoped the Nomicon wouldn’t open for her like it had for Bucky. Or—

“ _My car_!” Even above the shrieks and blaring alarms, Slimovitz’s voice was clear.

Randy pulled out a smoke bomb before peeking out the bathroom door to make sure the hallway was clear. It was, so he raced down the hallway, closer to the sounds of the fight outside. “It’s Ninja-o’-Clock!”

Duty first, panic later.

Things didn’t go so well when they weren’t done in that order.

Who knows? Maybe he’d get lucky and Debbie’s parents would inform her that they were moving to another town because they’d had enough of this constant danger.

Or maybe this would be the monster that would actually catch him.

Didn’t matter. Right now, he just had to get out there and kick some monster butt. Smoke bomb in hand, Randy vaulted through one of the shattered hallway windows and made his entrance.


	2. Chapter 2

Oh, she was going to _strangle_ Randy when she got her hands on him again. Debbie stomped back to her office. The Ninja had turned up to fight the robot, but she’d left her camera, binoculars, recorder, and notebook in the office, all of which she needed if she was going to question the Ninja after this fight. Which would be helpful, if he would stick around for long enough. She still couldn’t see any consistent pattern between attack by robot or attack by student-turned-monster, though it seemed this attack had brought both and he’d already defeated the monster.

If Howard hadn’t waylaid her, she might’ve caught up to Randy. She knew he must’ve ducked into a washroom—it was practically his go-to move—but she wasn’t sure which one. The closest one to her office, presumably, except by the time she got there, she could already hear the sounds of the Ninja fighting outside. She’d hissed through her teeth and hedged her bets, deciding Randy wouldn’t think to hide farther away.

Either she was wrong or he’d actually managed to wait her out, and neither possibility particularly pleased her. While she’d waited around for Randy to slink back out of the washroom, something the coward refused to do, she’d apparently missed the Ninja’s entire fight.

Debbie slammed the office door behind her and then spun on her heel and locked it for good measure. She wouldn’t make it out in time now anyway. If Randy hadn’t tricked her, she wouldn’t have rushed out without everything she usually tried to carry with her, and she wouldn’t have missed any of the action. It was _his_ fault.

She kicked at a few of the papers that had scattered earlier and then sighed and sat down on her desk instead. She was being silly. She thought she’d been onto something. If Howard knew who the Ninja was, surely Randy did, too. But if Howard _had_ been lying all that time? There wasn’t a chance Randy had a clue, either. Ninja’s biggest fans or not, they were useless to her if they were as clueless as everyone else.

Honestly, though, she hadn’t thought Randy could move that fast. He’d been out of the room like a shot; having to unlock the door hadn’t slowed him down at all. Of course, he’d obviously anticipated her reaction. She’d played right into his hands, giving him the display he’d wanted. She hadn’t realized she was quite that predictable. Maybe _that_ was why she couldn’t get ahead of the Ninja.

Or maybe she _had_ been right and Randy and Howard knew who the Ninja was and were just working with him to throw her off the trail.

Yeah, right.

Randy might as well be the Ninja if that were the case.

He was obviously agile enough for it, springing from a sitting position to a full out sprint in a split second.

What if…what if he really _was_ the Ninja and just didn’t _realize_ that he was the Ninja? Was that even possible? What if he had truly thought he was teasing her, only for this attack to happen and for him to suddenly become possessed by the spirit of the Norrisville Ninja?

Not that she had any idea if that was really how it worked. There was absolutely nothing to be found in the literature, not even sketchier tales that were beyond unreliable. Still, she was confident that the Ninja was a student at the high school; she’d seen all the teachers at one point or another during an attack, and she couldn’t imagine how the Ninja could always get to the scene so quickly if he weren’t someone who was already here. But she also knew that while the Ninja was a constant presence in Norrisville, he changed as the years passed.

She wasn’t sure how _that_ part was possible. How could different students take the same role, all without anyone ever knowing the truth? Wouldn’t a former Norrisville Ninja tell someone at some point, even by mistake? Gossip columns should be full of that sort of thing, but there was nothing. There was only the Ninja, with his familiar range of attacks, fighting monsters and now robots on what was practically an age-old battleground by this point.

But even if there was always one Ninja, the same old attacks didn’t mean the same old Ninja, did they? But how else would different students have that knowledge, be able to step up and _become_ the Ninja? How was that even possible? Really, her fleeting thought of possession might not be too far off. If her fellow students could turn into monsters and not really remember it, why not one of them turn into the Ninja to fight—and fight for—the rest? Without ever knowing the truth? That would explain why no former Ninjas had come forward.

Unless she was wrong and the Ninja wasn’t a student after all. Unless it always was the same person beneath the mask, regardless of what he looked like. But she’d never dug up any concrete evidence that the Ninja was a shapeshifter, and didn’t Occam’s razor mean she should be looking for the simplest explanation?

Then again, this was Norrisville.

Debbie looked out the window, just in time to see the Ninja—current Ninja?—bring his sword down on the left pinchers of a giant robotic crab. Even as she watched, he made short work of the rest of the robot, and then he disappeared in a burst of red smoke. The pile of spare parts he’d left behind wouldn’t give her answers.

Well.

Not the answers she wanted, anyway.

She’d taken a look at one of the robots once and been careful not to get too close since, just in case. But someone in McFist Industries knew something. Maybe not McFist himself, maybe not even Viceroy, but if no one in that building was drafting the plans or making the robots, _someone_ was selling the necessary parts to do so. Their cleanup service wasn’t just a necessity or a PR stunt; it was to collect everything useful so that the parts could be reused.

It was a big story.

It was a dangerous story.

The soupsicle incident had rather driven that point home.

She wasn’t sure she dared investigate it—or anything related to McFist Industries—too much until she’d figured out the secret of the Ninja. She might need him as an ally. Sure, exposing him wasn’t necessarily the best way to get his help, but it _was_ probably the only way she’d find out the truth—even if she ended up being the only kid in school who knew his secret.

But then, whenever she thought she was getting close, she had to deal with someone like Randy. What Theresa saw in him, Debbie would never know. But because Randy was just an idiot, as opposed to someone who gave her bad vibes, Debbie didn’t discourage Theresa’s crush. Sometimes, she even helped out.

Like now, since another glance at the room had revealed that Randy had left behind his bag.

Debbie hauled it onto her desk with a grunt. “What does he keep in this thing?” It was _heavy_. She’d always assumed he left most of his books in his locker, but— “Wait, why does he have two math textbooks?”

She hadn’t meant to look. Not really. She wasn’t above snooping, but she usually had more discretion. But she’d looked down, and the bright cover of their math book was hard to miss. Especially when there were two of them.

No, not two.

“He took off the dust jacket?” She could see it now, the glossier shine on the real math textbook tucked next to the duller jacket. She picked up the book with the latter. “So what are you actually hiding?”

Okay, looking was snooping. She couldn’t pretend it wasn’t. But looking could also help Theresa, since this might mean Debbie could tell her more about Randy’s interests, beyond the obvious.

Debbie slipped the dust jacket off the book without any trouble. It was a hardcover, but not one she recognized, and Randy must have taken off the _real_ dust jacket at some point because the cover didn’t even have a title.

Except…except this cover wasn’t the sort that usually had a dust jacket.

She hadn’t ever pegged Randy as someone who did a lot of reading, and this was definitely not a school textbook. It was heavier than it looked, for one, and the cover felt like leather—but the hard sort, with ridges and grooves, the sort of thing she’d expect to find on some old bible that was six inches thick. The cover of this book alone was nearly half an inch thick.

“Weird,” Debbie muttered, and then she opened the book.

Or rather, she tried to.

It wouldn’t budge.

“Okay, really weird.” It looked too elaborate to be some sort of joke book. While she wouldn’t put it past Randy, he couldn’t have known she’d corner him today, and between him and Howard, Randy seemed the least likely to be able to pull something off successfully without time to prepare.

Granted, he’d gotten her good regardless. She’d actually believed she’d been getting somewhere. Maybe she didn’t give him enough credit after all.

But that still _wouldn’t explain why the book refused to open_.

It wasn’t locked, as far as she could tell. Nothing _obvious_ held it in place and kept it closed. No one would destroy a book this old—this _expensive_ , no doubt—by dumping a pile of glue on it, not even Randy. (Hopefully.) So why—?

There was a knock at the door. “Hey, uh, Debbie?”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

“You’re in there, right?”

Let him think she wasn’t.

“I think I forgot my bag. Can I, um, come in and grab it?”

She didn’t move, let alone answer him, and she heard him rattle the doorknob. Let him think she’d gone out to try to find the Ninja. Let him have to wait a little longer for something he didn’t need; he could share a textbook with Howard if it came to that, but classes were always so disorganized after an attack that it would be at least ten minutes before classes would officially resume anyway. He wouldn’t even be missed right now. For that matter, neither would she.

Neither would the real Ninja, which had to be the only way he got away with this if she was right and he _was_ a student.

“Debbie?” One last, desperate plea, and one more vigorous shake of the door handle, but no footsteps leading away. He was listening.

Maybe he wasn’t quite the amateur she’d always suspected.

But he gave up much too quickly for anyone doing serious sleuthing, and she heard his footsteps fade away as he headed back down the hallway. Class still hadn’t resumed—she could see kids on the front lawn through the window and pick out the occasional yell above the chatter—and even with Randy on the lookout for her, she should be able to pass his bag off to Theresa to return to him.

Debbie sighed and put the book down on her desk. Maybe she could hang onto it for a little while, pretend it had fallen out and gotten mixed in with her things?

No, even Randy wouldn’t buy that, and she had no guarantee she’d be able to get the book open in ten minutes, let alone ten hours, if she hadn’t managed it in ten seconds.

Debbie dropped to the floor and started to pick up the papers that she’d scattered earlier. She’d just ask Randy about it later. She didn’t expect to get any answers out of him, but she did think his facial expression would point her in the right direction. Howard could say anything with a straight face. Randy? Part of the reason she’d believed him earlier was that he hadn’t shown any of his usual tells.

Either he’d gotten a lot better at lying since she’d last talked to him or—

The window _exploded_ , and Debbie shrieked and covered her head as glass fell around her. She was on her feet the moment it stopped, adrenalin coursing through her body and her heart pounding in her ears, but the sight of a familiar masked figure froze her in place. “Ninja?”

The Ninja had broken through her office window, and not entirely by mistake judging by the fact that she’d caught him reaching over her desk. He jerked his hand back. “Uh….”

“What are you doing here?”

“Um….”

No. She had a million questions for the Ninja. Why he was here right now didn’t even make the top ten. “Look, forget that. You’re a student here, aren’t you?”

“Ah….”

“Don’t try to deny it. You know our vernacular, and no one else seems to understand it.”

“I know your what now?”

Debbie rolled her eyes. “Shoob.”

“For the last time, I am _not_ —”

“A ShoobTube special?”

“No honkin’ way am I ever living that down,” muttered the Ninja, further proving her point even if he didn’t realize it.

Debbie smiled, finally feeling like she had the upper hand in a conversation again. “Because you’re just a student, you’re not the same Ninja who was here ten years ago, are you?”

She didn’t mean it as a question, not really, and the Ninja shuffled his feet and avoided her gaze, which was about as much answer as she’d expected. What _was_ interesting was the fact that he’d looked down at Randy’s mysterious book before hurriedly looking away.

_The Nomicon just talks like First Ninja_. Nonsense, she’d figured, but maybe not. The idea of there being a _First Ninja_ fit with her current theory, and if the Nomicon was supposed to help the Ninja? Even if she ignored the whole idea of the Nomicon talking, it probably wasn’t just a fancy name for his sword. It would make more sense if— “You came for the book, didn’t you?”

The Ninja’s eyes widened as he stared at her, and she’d bet his mouth was hanging open beneath his mask.

Maybe the reason she hadn’t realized that Randy was lying was because he’d mixed in so much truth, possibly without realizing it.

“The Nomicon,” she clarified. It wasn’t necessary, but it was a nice touch.

The Ninja blinked.

“Care to tell me why Randy had it?”

“He was just holding onto it for me!” the Ninja squeaked. She’d seen him less unnerved fighting off monsters ten times his size.

“So that is the Nomicon, then. It exists, and it’s yours.” The Ninja muttered something under his breath, but Debbie chose to ignore it. “Why not tell everyone who you are?” She hoped, if she kept switching tacks, it might throw him off.

“I’m not—” The Ninja broke off, sighed, and reached into his pocket. “Forget this. I’m outta here.” He raised his arm, and she saw a familiar flash of red. “Smoke—”

Debbie caught his arm before he could bring it down and escape. “No, wait. Please. I’m serious. Everyone loves you. Why the secrecy? Is it because of some unwritten Ninja Rules? Or McFist Industries?”

The Ninja started, but he was quick to recover and made a deliberate twist of his arm to dislodge her grip. “Just because you ask, doesn’t mean I gotta tell.”

Which was answer enough in her book. Rules or not, he would’ve denied McFist Industries being involved if it were just another company.

“So what—?”

But it was too late.

He’d already thrown the smoke bomb.

Debbie _tried_ to keep her eyes open, she really did, but the smoke bombs were _powerful_. She staggered toward the broken window in spite of the glass crunching underfoot, trying to get some air and hoping for another glimpse of the elusive Ninja, but he was long gone.

She turned back to her desk as the smoke thinned and realized that, somehow, he’d managed to make a grab for the book, too.

Which meant she was back to square one.

Well, maybe not quite.

The Ninja had confirmed a few things for her.

And Randy definitely knew more than he was telling.

She might not know who the Ninja was, not really, but she was more convinced than ever that Randy did, and she planned to use that to her advantage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've written bits of a continuation, but this is a two-shot for now.


End file.
